Something missing, Something changed

Chapter 1

Gavroche staked out the Place de la Bastille from his perch on the elephant. He saw the constant staples of vendors, haggling their wares, and an ever changing mix of beggars, workers, children, and soldiers. Heaven Almighty, I hate those scélérats corrompus. But they weren't the most interesting people in the square...Or his target. That was the group of students, running around and bellowing about revolution.  He slipped down from his perch and merged into the crowd, stopping to listen further. While picking the curly-haired man next to him's pocket.

"The government is oppressing us! We must fight! VIVE LA FRANCE!" A imposing man wearing red shouted.

"VIVE LA FRANCE!" The students echoed. Oppressing both at home and in the job eh? Gavroche decided to probe further.

"Scuse me sir?" Gavroche asked, " Are you really gonna fight?" The man looked down, black hair falling into his eyes, and smiled.

"That's right. We're setting up the barricade and freeing France!" he said triumphantly.

"That's what the other group said." Gavroche informed him, "Right before they all turned and ran at the first shot." The man squatted down and looked him in the eye.

"Are you questioning our honor?" he asked quietly. Gavroche went for the cheeky approach.

"Nah, just trying to see if you've got any to question." he said nonchalantly. The man threw back his head and laughed.

"You have a tongue on you! It's a pleasure, the name's Augustin Grantaire. Call me R" Rstuck his hand out and Gavroche took it.

"Gavroche." R raised his eyebrows "Just Gavroche"

"Well then, Gavroche, you should come to the rally tomorrow. There's other ways to fight than with a gun." R offered.

"Tell  me this." Gavroche said, as serious as his demeanor would allow, " Are you killing the corrupt soldiers?" R's face darkened.

"They're all corrupt." he grumbled.

"Good answer." Gavroche replied "I'll be here." With that, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving poor R very confused as to what just happened, and to where his wallet was. Unfortunately, Gavroche ran right into Francis and Jacques, his little cousins(Not that they knew about the relation, or that Gavroche was not happy about it).

"Hiya Gavroche!" Francis chirped   

"Go away."

"Why?" The little one, Jacques, asked.

"Because, frankly, both of you are pains in the derriere" he snapped back." Sides, I got a job to do."

"Can we help? Ya know, since we're part of your gang?" Francis asked. What!?

"No! You are not part of my gang! I-I don't even have a gang!" Gavroche yelped. He walked away from the crestfallen boys, marveling at their words.

Having a gang makes me sound like Uncle T, the malfaituer. And I don't want a gang. I want my partner in crime back. He sighed at the thought and headed towards a group of soldiers subduing a drunk from Thenadier's inn. He ran past them, slipping a wallet out of a soldiers pocket. He didn't notice a thing. Unfortunately, his friend did.

"Get that thief!" He roared and Gavroche took off. The two chased him down an alley way, and Gavroche leapt up onto the roof. He ran a couple of houses over and dropped down. Only to see the soldiers, guns pointed at him. Gavroche looked around for an exit, and darted into the grate in the wall behind them. He grabbed the bars on top before he could fall into the sludge. Yup. He was in the sewers. Gavroche used them as a transportation system more than most would think. The rancid tunnels led to anywhere in Paris. He swung as quickly as he could back to his original position, and climbed out of the gate directly below the elephant's trunk. Gavroche shimmied up the trunk and slid into the belly. "Home Sweet Home." He muttered, and began to check the day's work. The soldier's wallet was absolutely bulging. It was enough to eat for a week. At further inspection, it also contained love letters from not one, but two ladies. Scandalous. When Gavroche pulled R's wallet from his inside pocket, he realized the soldier incident was completely unnecessary. Oh well. He placed both in the elephants tusk, and pulled out the picture. The only drawing that captured the lopsided grin, those glinting eyes, and the tilted head that suggested a heist was eminent. Dieu, I miss her. He sighed and placed the crumpled parchment back into the tusk. He used the soldier's money to settle some debts and buy bread. When he curled up to sleep in the head that night, he dreamt of the last time men trumpeted revolution.